The Nostalgic Trip
to his M otherland

The boy in Mr. Zubairi could never come out of nostalgia for Kanpur. He may or may not miss India or things Indian; but his emotional attachment for the city of his birth was strong. Recently when Bob Woolmer, the Pakistani Cricket coach died in the West Indies under suspicious circumstances, it disturbed Mr. Zubairi emotionally as Bob Woolmer shared with him the place of birth i.e. Kanpur.

In the year 1961 the same nostalgia filled Mr. Zubairi’s emotions with memories of his Maamu and cousins. Mr. Zubairi had started proving himself in the race of life. Yesterday’s insignificant creature had suddenly become a hot property in the marriage market. Salim Zubairi his mother and baaji (his sister) travelled together to Kanpur.

When Mr. Zubairi reached his city of joy, he found that this time he was a guest at his Maamu’s own house. He did not have to go back to his old house. While the mother and Baaji were busy exchanging greetings with the relatives, Zubairi’s eyes were searching for something. His soul was looking for the places where he had spent his childhood. He came out of the house and started his emotional journey for his spiritual search. He visited each place where the memories of his childhood were inscribed. Although he had now come as a Pakistani citizen on a Pakistani Passport to a foreign country, yet the fragrance of the soil of Kanpur filled his entire body with a feeling of thrill.

The boy in Mr. Zubairi forced him to visit the backyard of his primary school. His eyes were looking for his old friend. But his friend - the elephant was not there. The boy stood there in silence. He, then, started playing with the pebbles and mud. The child in him became active. Even today at the age of seventy-five, the boy in Mr. Zubairi is much alive. He, at times, becomes a child and starts reacting in the same manner. His thoughts on that day were focussed on the elephant and the Mahout. He stopped a man passing by, “Bhai Saab (brother), here used to stand an elephant with his mahout. Do you know where has he gone?”

“I do not know brother. I am new to the area.”

The boy visited his old house made of khaprail. His old mohalla - Chaman Ganj looked more Pakistan than Pakistan itself. The boy became restless. He had gone there to feel one with his past but instead of getting any peace or satisfaction, his mind had become disturbed. He came back home. After dinner his maamu and Khaala’s (Khaala – mother’s sister) daughters sat around Salim Zubairi. His mother was enjoying the attention being showered on her son.

Sivvayian (vermicelli) were served as desert. Her aunts and married cousins were discussing about Salim’s prospective marriage, “Khalajan, have you thought about his marriage?”

“I have tried to discuss the subject many times but he does not listen to me. He has some other ideas about marriage” replied the mother.

Now they addressed to Baaji, “Khillo (nickname) have you ever talked to your brother about his marriage?”

Zarina was a bit shy in replying, “Bhai (brother) is a big man now. We have left it to him. When he decides to marry and chooses the young woman, we shall simply accept her and arrange for the marriage.”

They were disappointed. Youngest Maamu was, so far, listening to conversation. He thought that he must take the matter in his hands now, “Beta, it is high time you think about your marriage. If you approve of any of your cousins here, the marriage can be arranged immediately. “

“Maamu, I have not yet decided anything about my marriage” muttered Salim.

“Arey your cousins are so beautiful. You might also end up getting a hefty dowry.” These were Khaala’s daughters.

Salim was sitting confused. The vermicelli pudding tasted bland, more bland. Maamu was talking to Salim’s mother but looking at him, “Look sister, I think, it is high time that you should have a daughter-in-law as he has come of age. He is almost thirty now!”

Mr. Zubairi announced his decision, “Look Maamu, so far I live in a flat and I do not own a car. Until I can afford a bungalow and drive my own car, I will not marry.”
Maamu felt offended, “Arey Miyan, Naa nau man tel hoga naa Radha naachegi! (Son, neither will you ever have a house and a car, nor will you ever marry.) Allah was kind on Zubairi. Just within two years nau man tel was organised and Radha was dancing in the form of a car.

Salim politely but firmly refused some other proposals as well. He had no interest in immediate marriage or any form of dowry. He has been a self-made and self-respecting human being. He feels proud that he and his wife have built everything from the scratch – together. 

London Calling

In August 1977 Salim Ahmad Zubairi was posted to London. At that time the Bank had an insignificant presence in the United Kingdom. Only one branch and that too in a room of around 800 square feet area, with a staff of seven to eight people. Compared to today the balance sheet then was more of a joke.

Across the road was branch of another bank. The officers working in that branch were once working under Mr. Zubairi in his bank. These one-time friends, colleagues and juniors were now dealing in large operations. They had suddenly grown in stature. Now their treatment of Mr. Zubairi was as if they were sitting on a high pedestal and Salim Zubairi was a 'nobody'. Life was becoming real painful; frustration and depression were setting in. This went on for some time. Salim Zubairi, at times, would not come back home till midnight. He would keep sitting in the office, sulking and brooding. There were days when he would not feel like going to work. It would seem that he is carrying his own dead body over his brooding shoulders. His appearance had changed.

Zakia, true to her name - is pure and bright. She would notice that her husband looked disturbed, frustrated, irritated and fractious. In ten years of married life she had never seen her husband behave in that manner. Naturally, she was worried. But she is not the type to just see her house crumbling. She would not just be a mere spectator and let her husband destroy himself.

One evening after dinner she sat with Salim, “Darling, should I make a coffee for you?”

“O.K.!” The voice came from an empty well.

Zakia has this special knack of making frothy coffee that she prepares in hot milk – an Indian version of the Coffee Latte. That day she added extra ounces of love in the coffee, “Here is your coffee.”

Salim took the cup in his hand and was still watching the Pakistani TV drama Ankahee on video. “May I ask you something?” Zakia showed her concern.

“Yes, you may.” Salim was still lost to his surroundings.

“What is bothering you? … You were never like this!”

Salim would almost start crying. He controlled himself, “Zakia, life has become a burden for me today. These idiots, whom I trained and taught what is banking, have changed sides and behave as if they are Gods. I could have joined United Bank or BCCI at my own conditions. They were so keen to take me on their wagon. … The whole thing is so disgusting.”

“Why do you complain, darling? … When I was studying in Benaras, my professor used to quote from some Hindu text. Now I do not remember the name of the book; but he said – When you are putting efforts or Karma for one aspect of life, how can you expect the results or fruits of another sphere. Your juniors decided to desert your institution and join the other bank. They are getting the fruits of their doing. It was your concerted decision to stay back at the Habibs. You are getting the fruits of your decision”.

“Zakia, it is easier said than done. It pains.”

“Ask yourself a question; compared to other bankers in your position in London are you paid decent wages? If your wages are comparable, what is the problem?” Zakia was quick to retort.

“It is not the question of money Zakia. Suddenly their status has become much bigger than mine. That haunts me. People who used to look to me for guidance, today look down on me.”

“So it is clear, that your status has not been downgraded. The increased status of others is troubling you. That is not fair.”

“I know it is not fair. But it haunts me all the same. What to do?”

“Let us look at it from another angle. Habibs lost their empire. You told me that they were themselves doing petty jobs of sending telexes and all types of manual work. They shifted to smaller apartments and started travelling in Economy Class. Look, they lost all – their status as well as money. In your case you have lost nothing. Only others have gained more. So why should you grumble or complain? You should take a lesson out of the life of your bosses. That would be a positive way of looking at life.”

Salim was wordless. He was quietly admiring his wife. Radiance emitting from Zakia’s face gave him enough solace. Probably for the first time, he kept his head on the shoulders of Zakia and drew comfort from there.

Mr. Zubairi started working hard to come out of depression and work his way to new horizons. Meanwhile, Habib Bank Limited filed a case against Habib Bank Zurich for wrongful use of their brand name - Habib Bank. Habib Bank Limited was aware the case in the United Kingdom could have global affects on the future of Habib Bank Zurich. Mr. Zubairi took it as a personal challenge as well.

The very people who had been giving him sleepless nights and making him feel small, were today standing in a British Court as his equals. Zubairi's efforts and his solicitors’ brilliance were instrumental in getting full recognition under the Banking Act of 1979. This case has become a part of the curriculum in law colleges.

Habib Bank Zurich started expanding in the United Kingdom as well as globally. Letter of Recognition awarded by the Bank of England played a significant role in global expansion of the bank. The regulatory authorities in other countries attached much importance to the decision of the Bank of England. The joint president of the Bank Mr. Habib M. Habib was the real force behind expanding the bank in USA, Africa, South-East Asia and Pakistan. In the United Kingdom a second branch of the bank was inaugurated at Glasgow; followed by Manchester, East-end London and so on. Mr. Zubairi was eventually handling a network of ten branches on the mainland UK and an independent subsidy of the bank in the Isle of Man of which Mr. Zubairi is still the Vice-Chairman.

Meanwhile, the bank had already moved into a bigger building in a prime location in the financial district of London. Both, the business and number of staff members had started rapidly growing. Shortly this larger building also fell short of space and a few of the offices of the Bank had to be moved into a nearby building. Mr. Zubairi was still not satisfied with the expansion and progress so far. His thoughts were focused on the future of the bank in the United Kingdom. He was lucky to have the full and unflinching support, guidance and co-operation from the big bosses, namely the President Mr. Haider Habib and the Vice-President Mr. Habib M. Habib.

It is only after a couple of years’ that Zubairi felt the need for the Bank’s own building. This was his dream that the UK headquarter of the Habib Bank Zurich should own its own building. Keeping this in mind, he was keeping aside the necessary reserves after transferring the annual profits to the Head Office. The bosses agreed to his ambitious ideas and sanctioned him a budget of five million pounds towards the cost of the building. Zubairi started his search in right earnest and after inspecting dozens of buildings, he settled a property that would suit the needs of the Bank. But there was one problem. The cost of the building was just about double the sanctioned budget. It had a price tag of ten million pounds. Zubairi had no time on his hand to get further sanction from his bosses. He had to wrap up the deal within a stipulated time. He was sure that when the bosses looked at the figure of 10.5 million pounds, they would surely say an emphatic NO!

The boss did visit London but predictably, he did not approve of Zubairi’s move. He had to deal with the condition tactfully and explain the whole proposition to the big boss that he had not crossed the budgetary ceiling imposed on him. Cleverly, he succeeded in putting across his view to the Habibs and the deal was struck in 1996. The joint president Mr. Habib took the full responsibility for renovating the building, which he did generously as the Bank spent almost five million pounds on renovation and refurbishment. In 1998 itself, the Bank shifted into its own building – a historic hallmark in the life of the Bank. The Bank had now become a modern institution and entire working of the Bank now was based on latest IT technology. The business and profits started multiplying and it did have a good international impact. The Bank now commands a great respect and reputation in the financial world both locally as well as globally. As the icing on the cake, the bank continues to have cordial rapport with the UK Regulatory Authority.

It is a matter of great pride that most probably it is the only Asian Bank (incorporated in Switzerland) which owns its own Head Office in London. Mr. Zubairi takes full pride for developing the Bank in the United Kingdom. All the agonies of the past have faded under the stature of this achievement.
Besides, Mr. Zubairi profitably created a valuable portfolio with the purchase of properties for the Bank at Glasgow, Manchester, London and Southall. The real-estate value of these properties has since multiplied many a times.

Meanwhile, the Habib family had been trying to gain license for a local commercial bank in Pakistan. Mr. Zubairi put his own share of participation in getting the licence through his connections in the Army. The Metropolitan Bank was floated in the 1992 with Mr. Zubairi as one of its sponsor Directors. Under the leadership of Mr. Kassim Parekh, in a short time, the bank attained an important place in the banking world of Pakistan. Mr. Zubairi was also appointed as Executive Director of Habib European Bank in 1985 and later became its vice-chairman.

Time has no sympathy for anyone. The case of Salim Zubairi was no different. The moment of self-realisation was looking stark at his face. He realised that it may be the time to say goodbye when he had reached an age when according to the Bank’s rules, he had to accept retirement. Difficult to believe that such an active and hard-working person had suddenly turned sixty-five. However, the destiny thought otherwise and the bosses, asked him to continue the good work that he had been already doing. He was made an Associate Director of the Bank and is now involved with the policy decision and important credit proposals besides guiding the local management whenever asked for.

Mr. Zubairi retired from active banking with a feeling of optimum personal satisfaction. He had served all the Habib institutions with the best of his ability. He had proved beyond any doubt that he was hard-working, dedicated, and loyal to the Habib family.

Marriage & After

The Girl in the frame!

1962 holds a special place in the heart of Salim Zubairi. This was the year when he landed in London, his dream city, for higher training in Barclays and Midland Banks. This was the year when after travelling a long-distance from his home town he met his distant cousin Abrar Zubairi and his doctor wife Humaira who was an anaesthetist. In their house he happened to see a photograph of a slim, dainty and beautiful girl. He felt a curious emotion which he had never felt earlier.
Salim had always been busy fighting against odds of life. He was studying, working or struggling. Softer emotions had seldom touched his heart. He was not able to understand what was happening to him. Why is it that he wants to steal a glimpse of that face in the photograph? Christopher Marlow’s famous lines came to his mind, “Was this the face that launched a thousand ships?”

Salim’s ego would not allow him to reveal his inner thoughts to his cousin or his wife. But the doctor was able to see through his emotions. She was enjoying the restlessness written clearly on his face. At dinner, Salim, strategically, positioned himself on a chair where he could admire the beauty in the frame.

Nissar Chacha (Abrar’s father) was cutting jokes and making fun of Salim's lonely life, “Salim Mian, have you not thought of your marriage as yet? By now you should have become the father of two children! …. What is the delay about? Any love affair going on?”

Salim was gob-smacked. He had never faced such a question. He wanted to know some details about the beautiful girl but was not able to muster enough courage. His experience in the bank had taught him not to speak out of turn. He was waiting for the right opportunity to speak. It was sure that Salim had felt the pangs of love at first sight.

That night Salim could not sleep even for a moment. For the first time he thought of having his own family, home and children. He had his mother, sister and brother staying with him. He had been living in an illusion that these people form his family. His entire thought process was shaken. Now he had seen a family for the first time – a happily married family. He had never seen a good-natured father like Abrar’s father. That a father can share jokes with his family, was beyond Salim’s grasp. But all the thoughts would stop at the face that had rocked the boat of his life.

Now Salim was eagerly waiting for the weekend to arrive. Is that love? Salim, for the first time in his life, smiled to himself. What name should he give to that face? Will she accept me? He knew most of the relatives on Abrar’s side. She must be a close relative of Humaira Bhabhi; that is why her photograph has been displayed in Abrar’s home.

Humaira Bhabhi came from a different background from his own. Will his own mother accept a bride from a different clan? Well if Abrar’s father (Papa) can accept Humaira why would Islam Fatima raise any questions? But papa is an educated man with a broad and enlightened mind. Islam Fatima is an orthodox woman. She might create a fuss. The thoughts kept on troubling Salim until the cosy bed put him to deep sleep.

Came the weekend and Salim was standing outside his cousin’s home. This time he carried several gifts for them. After the formalities everybody settled in the room. Nissar Chacha started singing his old tune, “So MiaaN, did you find any girl for you. Even if you select a British girl, I will help you in getting married to her. Don’t feel shy, just let me know.”

Salim was waiting for an opportunity to be alone with Abrar’s father, “Nissar Chacha, who is that girl in that photograph.”

“Waah, yeh baat hai! (So, that is the matter!) What a wonderful choice do you have?. .. Now you have given me a project to work on.”

Salim felt embarrassed but was still waiting for the answer to his question. After all who could she be! Nissar Chacha would never do anything in a simple and straight manner. He spoke to Humaira Bhabhi on the dining table, “Humaira,, Salim Mian wants to know about the girl in the photograph. Do you know who that silly looking girl is?”

Humaira knew her father-in-law well. She could catch his underlying prank, “Papa, you should ask Abrar. After all she is his relative!”

Salim was confused. Abrar had been so far enjoying the conversation. But he was not in a mood to tease Salim any more, “Salim, this girl in the frame is Zakia!”
Salim immediately remembered his Maulavi Saheb who used to teach him the Holy Quran in his childhood. While explaining the meaning of names one day he had said, “Zakia is a Hebrew name; and the meaning of the word is – bright and pure.” Salim had one more look at the picture, “How could she have any other name? She had to be bright and pure!” He thought. Yet it was not clear who Zakia was.

His questioning eyes looked at Humaira Bhabhi and then Abrar. The reply came from Nissar Chacha, “Mian, Zakia is the youngest sister of Humaira.”

“Does she live in Karachi?” Salim could not hold his apprehension.

“No, no. She is studying in India.”

For a moment Salim felt uncomfortable. His memories of Kanpur are nothing short of bitterness. His rise to a life of luxury takes him to Pakistan. The struggle in Pakistan when compared to the hard times of India, always gave the winning trophy to Pakistan. But this was not the time to compare India and Pakistan. His princess could be living anywhere in the world. His aim in life was to become much focused. Meet the girl, impress her and win her over. But the first hurdle was the sister of Zakia - his bhabhi Humaira. He needed to impress her first. Salim had taken the first step forward. Now he knew her name and a vague knowledge of her whereabouts.

Abrar and Humaira had two daughters – Rana and Naghma. Both of them were cute looking babies. Humaira Bhabhi’s nephew Arshi (her elder sister’s son) also used to live there. He was around eight or ten years old. Salim had developed a special friendship with Arshi. The distant relationship between Abrar & Humaira and Salim was developing into a close and warm friendship.

It was not long before Salim came to know that Abrar and Humaira had taken a decision to go back to Pakistan. Nissar Chacha would be taking Rana and Naghma by flight while Abrar and Humaira would drive down by car all the way to Karachi.

Abrar asked Salim, “Salim when is your training getting over?”

“Soon, very soon.”

“Why don’t you drive down with us to Pakistan? It would be a new experience for you too! By the way are you buying a new car for yourself?” Abrar enquired.

“I am not buying any car for me. Right now I do not need a new car in Pakistan.” Salim told Abrar.

“On a second thought Salim….ugh… Forget it!”

“Say it Abrar. At least you can be free and frank with me.”

“No, no…. Actually I just thought…!”

“Abrar, you do not feel shy man. Just say it.” Salim was losing patience.

“If you are not buying a car for you, would you mind clearing a car for us in Karachi?. You do not have to say yes. Just think it over.”

“Well I am not taking a new car; that is for sure. So, I do not mind clearing one for you. You can buy the car in my name and clear it in my name. If I need to go to the Airport Customs I will come there. Just let me know.”

Salim travelled with Abrar and Humaira to Paris. Arshi was also with them. All four of them spent a couple of days in Paris. The husband wife duo started their romantic journey on their new Peugeot from Paris to Karachi. Salim was more practical. He flew to Karachi and from there continued to Lyallpur.

It did not take Abrar and Humaira much time to settle in Karachi. While Humaira joined the Naval Hospital as a surgeon, Abrar started his career as an executive with Pakistan Oxygen Company. Salim used to visit Karachi on official tours. Suddenly the frequency of his visits increased. He would make sure to visit Abrar and Humaira on each trip. Through them he was also introduced to other members of Humaira’s family. Salim found them to be refined, elegant and educated people. But the most important member of the clan – Zakia was in India. Slowly it was becoming clear to the family that Salim was interested in her and the family seemed to approve the new liaison. Salim overheard someone saying that Zakia was enquiring about him from Arshi. He felt something happening in his heart. Later Salim was posted to Multan but his heart lay in India.

Salim was keeping a track of Zakia’s movements in India – not as a spy but as an admirer. He got the news that Zakia and her immediate elder brother Jaleel had gone to Dhaka to spend their holidays with Rais Bhai. The year was 1965, when a war broke out between India and Pakistan. Because of the war, Zakia could not go back to India. She took admission in M.Ed. in Dhaka only. When the University was closed for term vacations, Zakia planned a visit to Karachi. Arshi gave this heart-throbbing news to Salim. He could think of nothing else but his prospective meeting the lady in the frame! He had seen his future in a frame in London; little did he realise that a major part of his life he would spend with his lady of the dreams in the same city.

Zakia arrived in Karachi. Humaira started playing cupid between Salim and Zakia. She was aware that Zakia had interest in playing Carom Board. She invited Salim to join them for a few games of Carom. This was the first meeting between a well-settled banker and a dreamer, an artist. Salim found the dainty Zakia remarkably beautiful and attractive. Zakia lost the game of Carom but won the heart of Salim.

Humaira eventually talked to her younger sister, “Zakia, how do you find Salim?”

“O.K.”

“I mean, do you like him?”

“Neither I like him, nor do I dislike him. He is your friend you should know how is he!”

“Oh God! Would you like to marry him?”

“Look Humaira Baji, for one I won’t marry anyone in Pakistan. I cannot think of leaving my country…. And … you know I find him fat.”

Arshi was quick to tell Salim about his being fat. Salim took the hint quickly and hired a trainer in Multan so he could reduce weight. Salim managed to lose about ten to fifteen pounds in a short time.

Salim’s mother sent marriage proposal to Zakia’s mother in Allahabad (India). She replied on a pink paper written in a special ink and Salim’s prospective mother-in-law approved him without even seeing. Salim never revealed to anybody was his salary. In 1967 Salim used to earn about Rupees four thousand a month which included his perks. This would have been an incredible amount for people around him to believe. For the engagement ceremony Salim bought a beautiful diamond ring for his would be queen. At least within his heart of heart he would address her as Anarkali. He was waiting eagerly for the day when he could openly address her with that title. Only family members on both sides got together in that simple ceremony.

Humaira would keep trying her art of cupid to bring Salim and Zakia together. After the engagement ceremony, Salim could meet Zakia in presence of other relatives. 22nd October 1966 was another important day in the life of the lover Salim. He invited Abrar, Humaira, her two other sisters and off course Zakia to Kabana restaurant at the Karachi Airport. Everybody was enjoying the dinner and for a change the banker was playing the dreaming game. He was flying over the clouds with Zakia. He quietly handed over a beautiful little box to his Bhabhi and asked her to pass it on to Zakia.

After coming home Zakia opened the box. It contained a beautiful bracelet. Underneath the packing lay a piece of paper with a message “Issey kehtey hain Unglee pakad kar pahuncha pakadna! (This may be called to ask for a foot when given an inch).

Salim’s colleague Mr. Saeed Hassan Khan Rehmani, who was senior by age, one day, asked the daydreaming lover, “Mian, you have been engaged for some time now, what is the delay in marriage?”

“Zakia’s mother is still in India. We are waiting for her arrival.”

“Strange, are you getting married to Zakia or her mother! ! !” Even Salim could not stop laughing.

Zakia’s mother finally arrived in Karachi. Salim was introduced to her. Salim came dressed in his best suit and shoes. He was wearing an Italian pair of shoes that evening. Salim was trying to read the language of approval or rejection on the mother’s face. But it was not the daily stock market rate that he could read easily. Zakia’s mother did not say anything to that effect.

Next day he learnt that Amma Jan had approved him as a person, but she did not like the colour of his shoes. She said – Ye kya sindoori rang ka joota pehnta hai! (Why does he wear orange colour shoes!)”

Salim was keen on showing his empire to Abrar and Humaira, so he invited both of them to visit Multan. They accepted the invitation and reached Multan where Salim was playing the perfect host. He took them to Muree – A hill station.

Although the new trimmed Salim had impressed Humaira, she had seen Salim for the first time in his own environment and area, “Salim you smoke like a chain-smoker!” Salim felt embarrassed, and the cigarette in his hand quickly went under his shoe. The second observation was more damaging, “And you carry the bank with you on the road as well. Every second person on the road seems to be talking to you about the bank only.” She told Salim in a frank and forthright tone, “Salim, I do not think you and Zakia would be compatible with each other. You are a hard-core banker; a practical man who thinks about bank and money only. Zakia is an artist, a dreamer, a visionary. I don’t think you both can make a happy couple.”

Salim’s castle of love collapsed like the ten pins of bowling. His dreams were going to fall apart like a pack of cards. He was flummoxed. Humaira and Abrar came back to Karachi and Salim went into depression for a while. But he would not accept defeat like a coward. He picked up his pen and wrote a poignant letter to his Humaira Bhabhi, “Dear Humaira Bhabhi… … The wish to make somebody one’s own and the ambition to be owned by someone are fundamental emotions without which a human being cannot be complete.

If you or somebody else thinks of me just as a cold blooded banker; it would be a grave injustice to me. Even I am keen to spread the light of a morning star on the sky of my life. Somebody should be so close to me that she becomes my devotion, my paradise.

My aim has been to get some cool moonlight in the blazing heat of my life. It seems that the life is hell-bent on playing cruel joke on me. I think I had achieved my goal; my boat had reached the shore. But it turned out to be a mere mirage, a momentary happiness. I must say –

The achievement of my hopes, and reward of my efforts
Has been nothing but an indefinite torture.

(Meri ummedoN kaa haasil, meri kaavish ke silaa
EK benaam aziyat ke sivaa kuchh bhee nahin.)

Zakia’s brother sent a fragrant rain of love for Salim in his letter. The marriage date was fixed – 31st March 1967. Salim’s boss Mr. H.D. Habib was helpful in making all the arrangements. There was a building called The Habib House. There were eight furnished flats in that building. They were handed over to Salim so the marriage guests could be well looked after. Mr. H.D. Habib provided the cars for the occasion too. Guests had come from Lyallpur as well as other cities. There was still a Government control on serving food in marriage ceremonies. This restraint was imposed at the time of 1965 Indo-Pak war. It was still going on. Zakia’s family received the Baraat (the groom’s guests) at Shifa Hospital Club in a reception. The time fixed for the wedding by the Kazi Saheb was 5.00 p.m.
Salim is a stickler of time. His cavalcade of the cars reached the bride’s place fifteen minutes before time. The bride’s relatives were under the impression that according to the tradition of Karachi, the Baraat would arrive late by at least two hours. But an early arrival of the guests sent panic waves among the hosts. In a panic somebody went to call the Maulavi Saheb. In about One hour and fifteen minutes Salim with his bride was back to Habib House.

The Habibs had a special experience of Salim’s wedding. When they reached the Habib House to join the Baaraat, Salim’s convoy of cars had already left. When the Habibs could reach the Shifa Hospital where the reception from the bride’s side was fixed, the doli had left and the Bride had reached the Habib House.
The first night had its own romance about it. The lover in Salim opened his heart to Zakia. She was mesmerised by the ghazal that Salim read to her in his deep voice.

The next morning was the April Fools’ Day – birthday day of the bride. People thought they were being fooled to believe it. It was good fun. Valeema (ceremony to celebrate the consummation of marriage) was celebrated. While Zakia had officially become Mrs. Zakia Zubairi, a new chapter had started in the life of Salim.

Honeymoon and After

Salim’s dream city for honeymoon was Japan. For Zakia it could be any place where snow-clad hills would feel the touch and warmth of sun; where tall green trees would sneak out of the milky white blanket of snow. But those days Foreign Exchange Control department of Pakistan used to control a man’s dreams. Salim personally knew the then Director of Foreign Exchange Control who promised Salim a release of enough amount of US dollars to cover the cost of the honeymoon. Coincidently Mr. Khan went on a long leave before releasing the foreign exchange. Salim was not willing to ask his bride to wait for weeks before they could embark on their precious moments together in each other’s arms. When love is in the air, what difference does it make whether one is in Lahore or Los Angeles?

Salim decided to take his newly wedded queen to across the border in Afghanistan. Little did he realise then, that this trip would provide them with such memories that both of them could reminisce them sitting in front of cosy fire of a London wintry night.

From Karachi they went to Rawalpindi. To impress the new bride Salim had booked a first-class air-conditioned coupe in the train to Rawalpindi. The Zonal Chief Mr. Iqbal Rizvi was their host. His wife was an interesting woman. She asked Zakia, “How do you feel getting married to a banker?”

Innocent Zakia had still not tasted the effects of being a hard-core banker’s wife. She replied, “I quite like it.”

Mrs. Rizvi quipped, “Well, it is early days yet. We shall talk about it, five years from now!”

Zakia did meet her after five or six years of married life, “Why did you not warn me about the prospective terrors of being a banker’s wife?”

“Well as they say ‘B’ for banker and ‘B’ for boredom for wife and family!”

Mr. Rizvi had arranged for a Dodge Dart Car and a driver. First the honeymooners went to Abbotabad. It was a cold night. The silence of night was causing eeriness in the atmosphere. There were hardly any tourists around. Outside their hotel room a few pathans were sitting and enjoying their drinks. Fear was a feeling that Zakia had not felt till then. From Abbotabad their journey was to Peshawar and then Kabul. In Peshawar they had a chance meeting with Mr. H.M. Habib, “Oh Zubairi, I have good news for you.”

“Yes sir?” Salim became alert and it was Zakia’s first experience that Bank is where Salim Zubairi is.

“You have been transferred to Lyallpur. When you come back to Karachi, go to Lyallpur and take charge from Manzoor Ahmed Khan. This was the first transfer after marriage and the news was broken on them on their honeymoon. The Zonal Chief of that area was a well-built pathan, Mr. Ajmal Khaleel. The return date for Salim and Zakia was fixed and Mr. Khaleel reassured them that when they return to Torkham, they would be received by the Bank staff. They stayed in Peshwar for two or three days and then started their journey for Afghanistan. At Torkham, the immigration staff used to stamp the passport. Salim sent his driver with the passport to the officer so the passport could be stamped. The driver went and did the needful. The honeymoon couple reached Jalalabad. The route was naturally beautiful yet dangerous. On one side of the road was a river and the other side was a hill. By the evening they had arrived at Kabul.

The city looked heavenly beautiful. They checked into the hotel Spinzer in the city centre. The hotel was comfortable and tastefully decorated. The hotel staff deposited their passports which were to be given back to them on return. The chill in the weather was making the atmosphere more romantic. Salim and Zakia were busy in their own little world. Time stood still. Both of them enjoyed roaming around, shopping, restaurants and Hindi films. After the 1965 war, Pakistan Government had enforced a ban on Indian films. For Salim it was entertainment and for Zakia a journey back home.

Both had hardly enjoyed the intoxication of love that it was time to go back. The passports were taken back from the Hotel Reception. Loaded with boot full of shopping, they started back for Pakistan. The first hurdle was Torkham. The immigration staff gave them shock of their life, “What is this? Where is the exit visa?”

“What exit visa?” Salim was puzzled.

“You had to get an exit visa stamped on your passports in Kabul.” The officer was blunt to the point of rudeness.

“But nobody told us at the time of entry.”

“When did you arrive in Afghanistan?”

“You can check the entry date on the passport itself!” Now Salim was visibly irritated. Zakia was tense yet her emotions were under control. The guard was turning the pages of the passports. He was trying to find out the date of entry. Suddenly he shouted to his officer, “Saab, they do not even have the entry stamp on the passport. This is a matter of illegal entry.”

Now the matter had taken an ugly turn. The immigration people told them point-blank that they had to go back to Kabul to get the entry as well as exit visa stamped on their passports. For the first time, Zakia had realised the gravity of the situation. Salim tried his last act, “But our driver had the entry stamps put on our passports. He speaks your language. Just check with him.” But the driver was standing like a culprit. Even he did not realise what wrong had occurred.
At that hour it was not considered safe to go back all the way to Kabul. Thus it was decided that they go to Jalalabad and contact the Pakistani consulate there. Before Salim could explain his situation to the Consulate In-charge, he made a rude remark, “Why do you people always create troubles for us? This is irresponsible behaviour on your part! I know you people are interested only in imported shopping. For that you would go to any extent.”

“Look Mister, I am not just any Tom, Dick or Harry. I am a responsible executive of a huge Bank. I can buy anything from any country in the world. Here is a genuine problem and I am asking you to help me. We are a newly married couple and are on our honeymoon. We are not irresponsible people.”

Salim’s tone did the trick. The Consulate Officer sent his clerk with Salim and Zakia to the Police Station at Jalalabad. The In-charge at the Police Station was curt and blunt, “We cannot do anything, and you have to go back to Kabul.”

“But what is our fault?” Salim was trying to mix the little Farsi that he could speak with his English, “After all, I am a senior executive in a Bank. I am on honeymoon with my newly wedded wife. We are not criminals. Neither are we lying! You may check with our driver. He speaks your language. Even the hotel employees never told us about the exit visa.”

The Police In-charge realised the situation. He telephoned his counterparts at Torkham, “What is the problem boss? Why don’t you let these people go back?”

“They do not even have the entry visa stamped on their passports. This is a simple case of illegal entry.”

“You see this man is a big shot. There could be a problem at Government level.”

“What is the order for us, Sir?”

“Look, they came in without a stamp; just let them go out without a stamp. Nobody would come to know that they ever came to our country.”

Salim and Zakia had a sigh of relief. They once again embarked on their journey. When they could reach Torkham, evening had already set in. Change of guards had already taken place. The new guards did not have any knowledge of their case. They were good enough to check with Jalalabad police station. Finally the newly married couple could cross the border. But the people who had come to receive them had understandably gone back.

From Torkham their eventful journey reached Landi Kotal – Duty-Free Baara Market. Shopping attracted the honeymooners once again. The driver even warned them, “Sahib, do not buy so many things. The route is dangerous and you could be mugged.” Where does youth listen to reason? Salim and Zakia kept on shopping till they were tired and the boot had become full. They once again thanked Allah and moved on. The driver warned Salim, “Sahib, at the check post the officers will create problem. You have done a lot of shopping.”

Salim had some wicked thoughts coming to his mind, “Khan Sahib,” he addressed the driver, “If you find any space at the barrier to take the car out, you just drive fast and don’t stop there. Leave the rest to me.”

The driver’s reply sounded reluctant yet full of boast, “You don’t worry sahib, and leave it to me. I will take care of everything.”

But the poor chap did not realise that two uniformed men were waiting at the check post barrier,” Stop! Stop!”

Well the car had to stop, “Where are you coming from?”

“Kabul.” A resigned Salim replied.

“Did you buy anything on the way; or in Kabul? “The officer’s eyes glittered.

“Well yes we have done some shopping. It is lying in the boot of the car.” Salim opened the boot before the officer could say anything else.

The officers’ eyes popped out, “Oh Allah! You call this only ‘some shopping!’

“Well officer, this is what we have.”

“No, no! You have to pay duty on all this. It seems you have bought the whole market!”

Salim looked at Zakia. She quietly closed her eyes. When she reopened her eyes, a senior officer of customs walked in, “What is your name, Sir?”

”Salim Zubairi.” A tired Salim replied.

“Oh Masha-Allah! Are you Mr. Zubairi? I am sorry Mr. Zubairi, there were people waiting for you the whole day. Poor men had to go back after such a long wait. No problem, Sir. .. Oye jawan, let Mr. and Mrs. Zubairi go! Zubairi Sahib, can I do anything else for you?”

Salim’s ego was boosted. He gave a smiling look to Zakia who had a sigh of relief. Finally luck had smiled on them and they reached Rawalpindi via Peshawar. From there, they went to Karachi and back to Multan. The final ten fifteen days in Multan meant parties and more parties. Salim had looked after the welfare of people and now it was the farewell time.

Salim and Zakia reached Lyallpur and a new chapter began in their life. The Bank provided Salim a huge accommodation in Lyallpur - a palatial house of two thousand five hundred square yards with a swimming pool. Zakia had herself decorated the house tastefully. H.D. Habib always stayed with the Zubairis whenever he visited Lyallpur as there were no hotels worth the name in that area.
Their first marriage anniversary happened to fall on 10th Moharram. Zakia was expecting it to be a romantic affair. She wanted to give a surprise to Salim by organising a huge party. She had already become famous among the elite of the society for being a great host. But Salim had different ideas. In fact he did not even remember his wedding anniversary. He was thinking about Moharram and Ashoora. How could they celebrate any happy event during the Moharram? Zakia was not just annoyed, she was disappointed. Salim was insistent and went to the Majlis with his friends.

Zakia’s family was a secular family from India. For her, the most important festivals were Eid, Diwali and Holi. She did not even know any difference between Shia and Sunny Muslims. For her a Muslim was a Muslim. Zakia was thinking to herself, “Has Salim converted to be a Shia Muslim?” First serious altercation had erupted between the husband and wife. The romance had just received the first taste of harsh reality.

Happiness knocked their door when Zakia’s first pregnancy was announced. A baby girl was born on 3rd September 1968 in Shifa Hospital in Karachi. Zakia’s elder sister Humaira was working as a surgeon in that hospital. Salim was in seventh heaven. Salim distributed Badayun ke pedey wrapped in silver plates when he brought the baby home. The baby girl was named after Salim’s mother – Fatima. A servant was specially appointed to look after Fatima and Zakia. Zakia and Salim thought of a party with a difference. The entire non-clerical staffs of all the branches in Lyallpur were invited for a feast at the Zubairi’s home. Husband wife team personally served food to all the guests. For the non-clerical staff, this was a unique experience of hospitality.

Fatima spoke her first words when she was hardly ten or eleven months old. When she said ‘Mamma’, music spread in the atmosphere. Salim’s busy schedule with the Bank would not give him much time to spend with the little angel. Yet Fatima was Salim’s weakness as well as strength. Fatima did not have to feel the pangs of solitude for long as her parents gifted her with a live toy. Ahmad was born in the same hospital in Karachi where his elder sister was born. Every weekend either the Zubairis would be hosting a party or would be invited to a party. The life had become a never-lasting party.

Three years after her marriage, Zakia got a chance to visit India. She was charged with emotions. She was looking forward to meet her school friends – Chitra, Indira and Maya. Aqeel Bhai (Zakia’s elder brother) was posted in Delhi then in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Zakia could hear her own heartbeat at the thought of meeting her own people – people with whom she had emotional attachment and bond.

Salim, Zakia, Fatima and Ahmad landed at Delhi airport. Aqeel Bhai had been living in an apartment in the Diplomatic Enclave. Salim liked that area of New Delhi. The family travelled to Allahabad in a train. To Salim now India was a foreign country and he could react objectively to various matters. And his first reaction was about the trains, “How pathetic! We have better train services in Pakistan.” But he was appreciative of Allahabad City. Zakia’s eldest brother Anees Ahmed joined them there too. Being the son-in-law to all the relatives and friends of Hafeezullah family Salim was the guest of honour at everybody’s house.
Zakia’s array of friends was different from most of the normal people. Pandit Naagar jee had a stationery shop. He used to treat Zakia as his own daughter. He organized a private taxi for the Zubairi family to go around the city. In the evening he had invited the Zubairis for dinner. Pandit jee’s family was naturally vegetarian. They had organised dinner for Zakia and Salim at their home. The dinner was served in the most traditional Indian style where everybody was asked to sit on ground and enjoy the vegetarian cuisine. Pandit jee was the epitome of a proud father looking after his son-in-law. It was Salim’s first experience of eating at a Hindu household. Although Salim is an open-minded Muslim, and with the passage of time he has made many Hindu friends; but on that first meeting with the Hindu meal, Salim did feel inconvenient. Young Salim was a lion who would not like to eat grass.

Zakia’s eldest sister was settled in the same city. Her brother-in-law, who was a retired judge of the High Court in India, invited them for dinner at his place. When the food was served, for Salim it was like jumping from frying pan to fire. He was sick of the vegetarian grass served at Pandit Jee’s home, and Zakia’s brother-in-law served them meat curry prepared in Mustard Oil. For Salim it was a pathetic experience. However, he slipped into his mother-in-law’s house which was part of the same building. Zakia’s sister asked Salim, “Dulhey miaN, what are your favourite dishes?” Salim rattled a shortlist of his favourite foods. When Salim went into the kitchen, the most beautiful item in the kitchen he could find was the wife of the cook. The taste of the mustard oil was still present in his mouth. He asked for Mooli kee bhujia in sarson ka tel (vegetable made of radish in mustard oil) to be prepared for him. The food was tasty as the butler’s wife had cooked it with her own hands!

Zakia had close friendship with a Sikh family. When they invited them for dinner, Zakia told Salim, “Now you won’t have to worry. Sardars make good non-vegetarian food. You can enjoy now.”

“But jaanu, they must be eating jhatka meat; you know I eat only Halaal. Salim was perturbed; while Zakia was distraught. Time does not wait for anyone and did not stand still in Allahabad either. It was time to move on to Kanpur. Now it was Salim’s turn to have goose bumps in his stomach. He was going to the city of his childhood not only with his bride but also his two children. Zakia and children were received with warmth. But the oldest Maamu was still angry with Salim for having married outside his clan, “Salim miaN, I believe in pardah. I will not like to change my lifestyle at this late age. I will not meet your wife. Nor do I want to see her face.”

Salim was reminded of the face in the frame, “Maamu she is like your daughter. Where is the question of pardah? You do see the face of my cousins. If you can see the face of those daughters; why this discrimination with Zakia?”

“I do not think this argument would take us anywhere. My decision is final. You just give this gift from me to your wife.”

Salim could not hide his disappointment. He quietly forgot to pickup his Maamu’s gift. Zakia has a magnetic personality. She can develop intimate relations with anyone. She was the centre of attention of all the cousins of Salim. This time Salim did not have time to go to his school; he knew there would be no elephant waiting for him.

The trip to Kanpur left some sour taste in Salim’s mouth. His expectations from his relatives and the city must have been much more than he got. The family came back to Delhi with Aqeel Bhai. All of them enjoyed food in the restaurants in posh Connaught Place. As if a film a day was the Doctor’s advice which was followed religiously. Zakia had to look after crying Ahmed and enjoy as well.
The family came back to Karachi where they stayed for about two to three months and eventually back to Rawalpindi. During the same time Salim’s elder sister was married. Salim was satisfied with Zakia’s positive behaviour with his family. She did not believe in backbiting. She used to take care of all the members of Salim’s family.

Driving was Salim’s favourite hobby. He would ask his driver to sit back, take the controls in his hands. The drivers used to get scared as Salim had this notorious habit of falling asleep while driving. The roads in Punjab were narrow and summer used to be deadly. Buses and trucks would not give side on the road. Salim had another strange habit. He would overtake a truck; stop his car in front of it; get out and hit the driver with his chappal for not giving him the right of way.

Once, Salim was driving from Laiya to Multan. Slumber played its game and Salim started dozing off. The car went off the road and got stuck in sand. The jerk woke Salim up and he looked out, “What happened, Niaz Mian?” He asked the driver.

“Sir, you had gone to sleep and now the car is stuck in sand!” The driver replied innocently. Salim and his driver Niaz both came out of the car and stood on one side of the road. They tried to stop any vehicle that passed, so they could seek help. To their good luck a truck passed by. Both of them waved their hands for help. They noticed the truck stopped at a little distance away from them. Two people came out with their guns in the hand, “Who is there? …. What is the problem?”

“Saab ji, the car is stuck in the sand. We need help.” The site of guns filled Niaz’s voice with fear.

“That is all right, but who is this man with you?”

“He is the Sessions Judge of Lyallpur.” A new brainwave came to Niaz’s mind.

“Oye, the session judge of Lyallpur is our own man! How can your boss be the session judge?”

It was Salim’s turn now, “He must be working under me. I am the main Sessions Judge.” Those people believed Salim and helped in getting the car out of sand.
Salim has wonderful memories of Lyallpur to cherish. But there is one incident that still haunts the memory of Zakia and Salim and has left a horrific mark on their minds. Salim was scheduled to visit Jhang about some loans and advances. On the dinner table, Salim told Zakia, “Tomorrow I will be going to Jhang. I will leave early morning and come back by night.”

“Salim Saab, may I put in a request!” Zakia had this uncanny habit of dramatizing her questions in lighter moods.

“Please apply, if possible, I will reply!” Salim was in a doting mood too.

“First tell me what is Jhang famous for?”

“Well,…. Oh yes! Jhang is famous for world-class durries and off course the mazaar of Heer Maai.”

“You mean Heer of Heer & Raanjha story?” Compared to Heer, durries would not interest the perennially romantic Zakia.

“Yes same Heer.”

“Then, I will also accompany you. In the presence of Heer Maai we will renew our bond of love and faithfulness!” Zakia’s romantic nature came to the fore. She put her arms around Salim’s neck from the back of his chair.

Salim knew that he would not have time for any such activity. He would be too busy in the bank’s work. He looked back, “Look jaanu, you join me on this trip. While I would be finishing my Bank’s work, you may have a chat with Heer Maai.”
Salim and Zakia went together to Jhang. Zakia was expecting a tomb like the Humayun’s Tomb of Delhi or a mini version of Taj Mahal. Though disappointed, yet Zakia was full of emotions and love feeling the presence of that great soul next to her. She looked at the Mazaar intensely; closed her eyes and prayed to Allah! She had never dreamt that one day she would be standing next to the Mazaar of the great lover! Laila Majnu, Heer Raanjha, Sassi Pannu – they were just names for Zakia. Now she could feel the presence of the sprit of love. Romance had developed a new meaning for her. Suddenly she felt that Salim was the avatar of Raanjha and she was Heer. She closed her eyes and kept enjoying her daydream.

She noticed that the Mazaar did not have a roof on the top. It was open. She asked a person standing next to the Mazaar, "Do you know why the Mazaar does not have a roof?"

"Madam, this Mazaar is a special symbol of love. Do you know, rain water does not fall inside this Mazaar."

"How is that possible?"

"It is the heat of love between Heer and Ranjha that evaporates the rain drops before they can fall inside the Mazaar!"

Zakia was intrigued by the information. She also tied a string at the Mazaar so that their love would grow.

Zakia’s conversation with Heer Maai could not stop the pangs of hunger. After experiencing the heavenly experience of love Zakia joined Salim at the Bank Manager’s house for lunch. From there she went on to buy the world-famous durries of Jhang. The colour scheme of the durries matched the air of love Zakia had felt during the afternoon. Late in the evening, the couple started back their journey from Jhang to Lyallpur.

On the way back they had to stop their car as an accident had taken place. Zakia came out of the car just to check what had happened. It was a bus accident. Five or six dead bodies were lying on the road. Zakia screamed! The scene had horrifying effect on her. She hid her face in Salim’s chest. Salim tried to soothe her. The pain of the incident would not let her rest. When she reached home she had developed high fever. In the night she was muttering jumbled words. Death, Heer, Mazaar, durries – all haphazard words. This happened to be Zakia’s only visit to Jhang. She would rather buy the world-famous Jhang durries from Lyallpur itself.

The second phase of life in Lyallpur was enjoyable and successful. Zakia and Salim had become the toast of socially elite class of the city. They both got the news that Salim was considered for a posting in New York. Zakia was carrying Sara in those days – her third pregnancy. It was not safe for her to travel by air in that condition. Salim opted out of the glamorous posting. In 1973 they embarked on a world tour which took them to various countries in Europe, Saudi Arab, and Algiers. They both were keen on visiting Cairo and witness the grandeur of Egyptian Culture. But the Arab-Israeli war broke out and they had to change their plans. The Egyptian culture gave way to the Roman Empire.

1974 saw Salim and Zakia back in Karachi. They were given accommodation in Defence Housing Society – again close to the house of Field Marshall Ayub Khan. Mohammed Shah was the most dedicated and trusted servant that Salim could ever think of. He used to call Mohammed Shah’s daughters as ‘chidia’ (bird). Once, he was going to his village on vacation. Three years old Fatima (Salim and Zakia’s daughter) insisted that she would also go to the village. Mohammed Shah’s questioning eyes looked at his memsaab. Zakia was modern in her approach, “Yes, yes Mohammed Shah you can take Fatima with you. But you will have to remember, whenever Fatima wants to come back, you will have to bring her back.”

Mohammed Shah was thrilled no ends. The thought that Fatima, the apple of his master’s eyes, would stay with him and his family was good enough for him to feel important. The adventurous Fatima’s first battle with reality came when she wanted to use the toilet in the morning. But there was no flush system in Mohammed Shah’s village. She would not use the dirty smelly latrine commode. Mohammed Shah had to struggle to make alternative arrangements. Special food was prepared for her. He slaughtered a sheep for Fatima’s health and long-life! But two days was enough for Fatima to start missing home. She was back in the warm, cosy, safe and comfortable home of her parents.

Karachi had a lot to offer to the Zubairis. To add to their happiness Zakia’s brother Aqeel and his family also migrated from Bombay to Karachi. Salim had to tour a lot during that period. Zakia would get more time to spend with her brothers and sisters.

But on the Bank front the scene had been changing rapidly. By the end of 1976 Salim had resigned from the bank. He was not able to adjust to the nationalised culture. Government interference, political decisions, rampant corruption in the staff would not let Salim feel comfortable. The family shifted to Dubai. BCCI made an offer to him which was too well-paid to refuse. Salim was about to join the new Bank when H.D. Habib sent for him. A new Bank was being launched – in Luxembourg. Salim would be the C.E.O. of the proposed bank.

Those six months in Dubai have special memories etched in Salim's mind. Since there was no help available in the kitchen, Zakia herself prepared Mutter pullao for Salim. He liked the taste of the pullao and complimented Zakia for her cooking. Little did he realise what was in-store for him. He was doomed to eat Mutter pullao day after day for the next six months.

Today, Salim recounts this incident with much humour, “When eventually Zakia left Dubai for Karachi. I was feeling relieved that at last I would get a change in my menu. Her nephew Tutu – Afzal Masud was staying with us. In the evening, when I came back home, Tutu had prepared the dinner for me. With lot of expectations I opened the container to plate my meal. And horror was staring straight into my eyes. The container was full of Mutter pullao all over again. I almost screamed, you too Brutus! What is this? Who asked you to cook Mutter pullao?”

“Uncle, Zakia auntie taught me how to cook Mutter pullao before she left for Karachi. She told me that you are fond of it.” Salim could not help smiling. The incident brings smile to his face even today.

After indecision of six months it became clear the licence for the new bank could not be gained in Luxembourg. Technical difficulties had grounded the flight before it could take off! Like a Gentleman, Salim offered to quit, but Mr. H.D. Habib insisted that Salim stayed with them. A new offer came Salim’s way to take over the newly created position of General Manager for U.K. and Europe in his existing bank i.e. Habib Bank AG Zurich at London.

Salim left for London – a new life, new horizons and new environment. He asked Zakia to go back to Karachi and dispose off the furniture and other household items. She took the job seriously and contacted an auction firm. The auction lasted for three days and all the household stuff was displayed in the garden.
In the afternoon, Zakia could not find the kids. She was worried. She started looking for them. Suddenly she heard hush-hush voices from under the table. It was Fatima, "Shh … Keep quiet. Otherwise Ammi can hear us! … Quiet!" The children were hiding in the big doll houses bought for them from the USA.

“Why are you hiding there?” Zakia enquired.

“If we come out, you will auction us as well!” Fatima was the spokesperson of all the three children. Zakia could not hold back her smile. She hugged all three of them. Zakia learnt a new lesson that day. This lesson would help her in her new life in London.

By the end of 1977 Zakia, Fatima, Ahmed and Sara landed at the Heathrow airport. Salim, and Mr. Ameer Siddiqui, was there to receive them and the family reached their new house – a flat at Marble Arch in Central London.

London – the City where things happen

When Salim landed in London, his first port of call was Surrey where Zakia’s niece Sabbi used to live with her husband Shams Baqai. The area was beautiful and the house was lovely. Shams happened to be the younger brother of Salim’s friend. Even in August Salim used to feel cold. He would keep all the windows closed. But the moment he would move a little away from his room, all the windows would be opened again. He used to wonder how the windows open by themselves. Salim would get irritated. Sabbi used to feel hot and would open the windows for fresh air. It is only later that Salim realised that Sabbi was in the family way and because of pregnancy she used to feel the heat. She gave birth to a son on 13 February.

After Zakia’s arrival in London, the first few days were the days of a new honeymoon. Love was once again written all over the flat. Salim was drowned in the ocean of love till the harsh realities of Bank snatched him away from Zakia’s arms. Bank was Salim’s first wife; Zakia only a poor second. Zakia got the children admitted in the nearby State-run school. The falling standard of education in that school and the manners of a few other children troubled Zakia. The Head teacher suggested to her, “Mrs. Zubairi, if you can afford, please send your children to private schools. The public schools are slowly losing on quality. When you shift to a permanent residence, think over my suggestion.” For Zakia the Head teacher’s words were like the words of the Holy Book.

The Habibs offered them a bigger apartment for six months at St. John’s Wood. Zakia was getting used to cooking. Accidents never give a warning before they happen. Zakia did not even realise the kitchen had caught fire. The Fire Brigade arrived. The fire was controlled before it could cause any major damage. The incident had shaken Zakia.

Salim and Zakia started looking for a property of their own. It was difficult for the practical approach of Salim and artistic nature of Zakia to agree on any one property. After many disagreements, they both agreed for a house in Mill Hill and 115, the Reddings is still the home for Zubairis. The home-furnishing was not even complete when Abrar and Humaira with their two doctor friends came to stay with them. Mattresses were arranged on the floor and a dormitory was created in the living room.

The holy words of the Head Teacher dawned on Zakia at this stage and she admitted the children into private schools. Now Zakia had a busy schedule. She had to leave the kids to separate schools at separate times; collecting them back; helping them with homework and taking them out for swimming, riding and other activities. In one-way Zakia was lucky that Salim had provided her with domestic help. In a new country Zakia and Salim developed new friends’ circle and once again parties and social activities became an integral part of their lifestyle. Zakia passed her much dreaded British driving test as well. But she had to suffer Salim’s dedication to his first marriage! As a routine, he would come back late from the Bank – night after night; every night.

Salim and Zakia wanted to give a wide exposure to their children. Therefore, they took them out on a few trips abroad. The children visited countries like France, Italy, Germany, Switzerland, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Malaysia, Hong Kong and Philippines. Fatima completed her ‘O’ levels and for finishing school, she went to Switzerland. There she had a chance to stay with the family of Hatim Hussain. Fatima had to visit Zurich again after some time. This time her hosts were Haider Habib and his wife Zoobbie. They were fond of children. Fatima’s nature and stature earned her the nickname of Pocket-edition Zakia in the Habib family. Like her mother she was also very popular with people.

Salim was always indulgent when it came to Fatima. When she went to Law College in the University, Salim hired for her an independent flat outside the campus. During her exams Salim went a step further. He got her another flat within the University Campus. Salim would pamper Fatima no ends.
Ahmed and Sara always feel that all the love was showered on Fatima and when their turn came; the love had started drying up. After she completed her Law degree she joined a reputed Law Firm. Later she was married off to her cousin Nadeem on 4th July 1991. Marriage ceremony was held in Karachi at the Hotel Pearl Continental. People still talk about the grandeur of that marriage. Today Nadeem is working as a senior executive with Deutsche Bank. He and Fatima with their three children are living in Dubai. They are proud parents of Hasan, Maha and Humza.

Ahmed married a white British Young woman and went to stay in his own flat in Canary Wharf. Luck did not favour this alliance and they separated after a few years.

In 2001 Salim, Zakia and Sara went to the USA and Canada. Their journey plan included Toronto, Baltimore, Atlanta, Washington, Houston and Virginia. When 9/11 happened, they were in Baltimore.

In 2002 Sara married Bilaal – an excellent Punjabi boy from Sheikhupura – who has added one more banker to the family. Both Sara and Bilaal are bankers too. Fahad and Sanna keep both of them on their toes. Salim and Zakia are doting Naana and Amma (maternal grandparents) to their five grandchildren but they are still waiting to become Daada and Daadi (paternal grandparents).

Salim had bought properties for both her daughters in Karachi. Both of them used that investment to make properties for them in London.

Salim looks back at life philosophically and finds 1990 to be a year which he would rather like to forget. He considers it to be the beginning of an entire decade that he would rather put out of his mind. Zakia’s sojourn with politics started in this year. What started as a mere interest slowly started turning into her passion.
Zakia’s commitment to politics became a full-time affair. It appeared she was dedicated to politics for twenty-four hours a day. For once Salim felt a void in his family life. Home, husband and children felt badly neglected. Earlier even when Salim came back late from work, he always had his Zakia waiting for him for dinner. But now, even if he came back early, there would be no Zakia. This Zakia-less home would make fun of him. Frustration was creeping into the anger of Salim. Salim had encountered the ghost of loneliness for the first time.

He had this special emotional attachment with his daughters. Ahmed was different. Salim thinks that as a child Ahmed was stubborn. Many a times Salim gave him a strong thrashing. In fact Salim does not have any memories of a good father-son relationship. He did not have any role model or ideal to follow in this sphere. His experimentation failed him and a balanced and pleasant relationship could not develop between the father and the son.

The home front was badly neglected as Zakia’s involvement with politics was getting deeper and stronger. The rift between the husband and the wife was widening too. He decided to confront Zakia, “What do you think you are doing?”

“What am I doing?”

“You are neglecting your home, your husband and your children at the cost of your hobby!” Salim’s voice was loud and angry.

“Salim, I have wasted twenty-five years of my life in handling just mundane affairs of life. You have gradually and systematically killed the artist in me! Now I am trying to discover my own personality, my inner-self.” Zakia was calm and controlled in her reply.

It further enraged Salim, “You are not making any money out of this politics! Don’t forget it is I who is paying for all that you are doing.”

“You are not doing any favours to me Salim. Every husband supports his wife in our culture. Nobody blows his trumpet by saying that he is providing a decent living to his wife.” Zakia was firm in her reply.

“Zakia, our life was running so smoothly, why did this have to happen? Why don’t you come back? Your children need you more than anything else. I need you; this home needs you.”

“Salim, I shudder to think of the lonely nights I waited for you. I have waited till eleven and twelve at night – alone all … alone! I wasted my youth in waiting. I want to explore myself. And politics is what is giving me a chance to discover who I am! I cannot come back to the cold loneliness of my previous life.” Zakia announced her decision.

“Zakia, be cool and just tell me. Do I go to clubs or nightlife or for that matter anywhere else, except for the Bank? If I come late, it is because I want to make your life comfortable. This big house, servants, gadgets they all cost money. And for that I have to work hard. I come late so you can live comfortably.” Salim explained his view.

But Salim did not realise that now he was not talking to Zakia of old times. This was a new Zakia. She was a leading member of a political party and could counter-argument with ease. She retorted, “Salim, do you mean to say that if you were not married to me and did not have children, you would come back early from the Bank? No Salim, No! You enjoy it. Like a landlord you come late from work, and you make me wait for you as your attendant. You enjoy making me wait for you in the stillness of cold nights. Today I realise that I wasted my youth in search of a mirage. Now I have reached a point from where there is no coming back.”

Salim tried his last weapon, “You are able to continue your political tamaasha, because I am looking after your daily needs. If I pull back my support, you cannot continue this drama even for a day.”

“Try it Salim! You would be badly disappointed.”

This scene was not an exception. This had become a regular feature of their life. The marriage was holding on to a thin string. Politics had punctured the essence of Salim’s idea of married life.

1994 announced the heart condition of Salim. He had to undergo an open-heart surgery at the Cromwell Hospital. In a royal style, two rooms were booked for Salim. One room was for the patient and the other for the attendant and visitors. Zakia was attending on a recovering Salim. The room was filled with bouquets and flowers sent by the well-wishers. Salim came back home and Zakia returned to her new love – Politics!

The tumultuous period matured both the partners to quite an extent. Zakia graduated from Pakistani politics to local Government affairs. She became a member of the Labour party. This development needed much less time from her but more commitment. She contested local government election. She has won two elections for the post of local councillor by comfortable majority. She happens to be the first Muslim Lady to hold a seat of power in local government of Barnet Council.

Salim wants the clock to turn back so he could erase the memories of those turbulent years. He has accepted the situation and sometimes even feels proud of his wife that she has made a place for herself in the local system. Though she has preserved the traditions she learnt in India and perfected in Pakistan, yet she has adopted the local way of life with an amazing ease. But this is not how Salim had thought of his married life to shape up.

During this period of pain Fatima was the source of strength for Salim. Even Zakia’s mother always sided with Salim when it came to dealing with the married life. But Zakia had made up her mind and kept stuck to it. Salim can philosophise well when he says, “Yes, I can say that this period of air pockets has changed me considerably. My patience and perseverance have increased manifolds. Today I can tolerate much more that I would have a decade ago. Now I can even look after my daily routine of life, independently. I mean I can do many things which were inconceivable a decade ago. I am by nature a family man. I think those years have been wasted. I wish they could come back and we live them differently. I feel happy about Zakia’s achievements but I never supported her political career. This was a matter of principle, since I have been a career Banker. I have no regrets about that. I never wanted my wife to be a politician. Yes! …Life seems to be more compatible today – worth living!”

In 1997 Salim faced the hardest reality of his life. He had to accept that he had reached the age where retirement becomes a way of life. Zakia asked him, “What are your plans for future, Salim?”

“What plans? Now I will spend my retired life like a retired man. We will sit together and talk about life.” Salim sounded like a tired man who wanted to relax and enjoy the warmth and contentment after achieving reasonable laurels for himself and his Bank.

“Never commit this mistake Salim! Your sole existence in your life has been your Bank. You neither have a hobby nor any friend who can discuss with you anything other than Banking. You may not live even for six months if you accept total retirement. You must start some consultancy. And, strange as it may sound, my political life is going to get busier by the day. You might feel real lonely.” Zakia sounded like a friend to Salim. This was a pleasant change. But then Zakia had always given good advice to him on various matters.

Even Habibs were in no mood to let Salim go so easily. They had become used to brilliance of Salim on matters of policy. He was inducted as an Associate Director in his own Bank to help the Bank on matters of importance. Habibs offered him a decent pay-package.

Salim wanted to give back to the world what he had received since his childhood. He always dreamt of a society where people of all religions, cast, and colours nationalities could live together and get education of comradeship. His dream project SAZ Brotherhood Village Foundation was registered in Pakistan as a charity. Salim has a firm belief in the maxim of the Holy Quran, “but righteous is he who giveth wealth, for Him, to kinsfolk and to orphans and the need and the wayfarers.” Pakistani politics once again seems to have become an obstacle in realization of Salim’s dream.

Salim still goes to his Bank in Moorgate. The building takes him back to the scene when he had made Habibs accept his advice to buy this property. This building has fond memories for Salim. This child of Salim would live ever after.
He thanks Zakia for the timely advice she gave him that he should not hang his boots and even today the Banker in Salim goes on. Age will not stop him ever!

Important Events in the career of Mr. S.A. Zubairi

Habib Bank Limited – Pre-Nationalisation Period

1959-62 Expansion of Exports Department at Head Office, Karachi

1963 In recognition for securing substantial deposit business (Rupees fifteen million), photograph published in the first issue of the house magazine – “We of Habib Bank”

1963 Purchased prime land in auction in Lyallpur under active guidance of Zonal Chief, Mr Manzoor Ahmad Khan

1964/67 Established and expanded Multan areas its First chief Manager and Controller of Branches

1967/68 Inauguration of the first high-rise building of HBL in West Pakistan except Karachi and being the first Zonal Chief to occupy these premises

1970 Helped to dissolve the Bank’s Officers’ Association in the Lyallpur Zone

1971/72 Secured the landmark decision of cancellation of the ‘black-listing’ order of the then Arab-Israeli Boycott Committee, Damascus, against Habib Bank AG Zurich, through Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Islamabad.

1973 During the tumultuous years of Mr Z A Bhutto’s ‘socialist regime’, won the court case against the bank’s union

Once again managed to get dissolved, on the pattern of Lyallpur, Officers’ Association of Rawalpindi/Islamabad Zone

1974/76 As EVP/Circle Executive of Lahore, Punjab Circle, large expansion of branches and growth of overall business achieved; and when resigned in late 1976, controlled 250 branches and staff strength of 1800 with senior executives - Zonal Chiefs included.

Habib Bank AG Zurich

1976 Habib Family through Mr H D Habib offered the position of Chief Executive/President of their proposed bank which was to be incorporated in Luxembourg against an earlier lucrative offer from BCCI followed with a visit by Mr. Agha Hasan Abdi in his office in Habib Bank Plaza. Due to close association with Habib Family the offer was politely declined. Unfortunately, the Luxembourg Authorities declined the request and consequently posted to London in HBZ as their First General Manager and CEVP for UK and Europe.

1979/80 The bank won the life-threatening legal case instituted by HBL, first in the UK High Court and later on, the unanimous judgement by all the three Lord Judges of the UK Supreme Court. Incidentally, members of the Habib Family were advised NOT to visit the UK during the litigation years due to apprehension of being subpoenaed by the other party. This landmark judgement known as Habib Bank v Habib Bank has since become part of the curriculum in the UK Law Colleges.

1981/82 HBZ was granted Full Recognised Status as a bank by the Bank of England under the first UK Banking Act of 1979 whereas many larger banks, including BCCI, were given the secondary tier status as Licensed Deposit-Taker.

1986/87 Tax refund of about £1.5 million secured from the UK Tax Authorities.

1989/90 Helped to obtain banking licence to operate in Pakistan.

1994 Almost a decade-run litigation against the bank by one of its customer was won with substantial compensation though the UK leading solicitors’ firm always considered the Bank’s case as being weak.

1996 Purchase of prestigious UK Headquarters building at the prime site of 42 Moorgate, City of London, and simultaneously 3 Moorgate Place for Habib Family.

2003 Won with tactful strategy another important litigation against the bank by a client involving substantial amount.

2005 Purchase of prime premises for Habib European Bank, Isle of Man, at a very competitive price.

Purchase of properties at prime locations in Manchester, Glasgow, and Southall etc. Values of all these properties have since multiplied and presently yielding rental income much higher than the present market norm.

Always maintained close and cordial relations with the Bank of England.

Managed to train and build a formidable team of executives to be part of a succession programme, namely Messrs I M Kadwani, M Y Chowdhury, and Syed Kausar Kazmi.

August 25, 2007

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